Wrecked (The Blackened Window) (31 page)

The rest of my afternoon sucked. I was in a shitty mood and wasn’t listening well. I waited for her at the end of the day and she must have been held up with something because she didn’t come out with the big group of people leaving her class. But Stacy did.

“Hey, Xander.” She smiled, kept an appropriate distance. “Going home for Christmas?” She acted like a normal acquaintance, not the other half of the most fucked up relationship of my life.

“Yeah. You?” Cordial, but cold. She knew where she stood with me.

“Yeah, about an hour after my last test. Can’t wait to leave. I’ll see you at the gala?”

“Presumably.”

“Maybe we can get a cup of coffee or something while we’re both home.” She said it so innocently, it kind of caught me off guard.

But I was in a bad mood and was still pissed off at her…and Jason. “You think your daddy would let you out with me?”

Rage crossed her features. She hated being trapped in a political family as much as I did. Maybe more. She hated that her dad hated me, that he’d never forgiven me, even though he’d never publically censured me either. She opened her mouth, ready to spout off some shit, but I stopped her short, “Fuck off, Stacy.”

She raised a hand to slap me, and I caught it easily, stepping into her space. “Is this what you fucking want from me, Stacy? You want to hurt me?” I squeezed down on her wrist, slowly, but without pause when she winced. “You know that would just make me want to hurt you. And you know I can. But I don’t
fucking
want you. Is that what you want to be around? You should’ve put me in prison when you had the chance.”

I dropped her arm, walking away from any response she may have had. I went back to the first year lecture hall to find Leda. She was bent over a book with one of the TA’s. A British dude, here working on his renal cell cancer research. I actually laughed at how my day had pretty much been a perfect storm of shit fucking with my head when I saw how close he stood to her. She looked up at my laugh and I waved at her. She smiled crookedly, head cocked to the side in question. The TA took a step back—
yeah motherfucker, you
were
inappropriately close to her just then.

“Hey, girlie. You good here or should I grab a spot in the library?” She didn’t need to know how bad my day had been. She didn’t need to know that the TA and I shared a look in which he acknowledged my claim and my alpha status to his beta at best. And that was it. I just needed to alpha the fuck out on a bunch of people. I could have gone to the Window, or the gym, or even to the bar and picked a fight.

But my girl was there, looking at me. She felt like the sun shining on me.

“Nope, I’m all set, honey.”

When she turned to get her bag, I shared a look with the TA—
See, motherfucker. Recognize.
It was unnecessary and he dropped his gaze and mumbled his goodbye to Leda.

* * * *

Wednesday night, I still hadn’t heard back from Jason and I wanted to spar some.

Hey. Gym?—X

His response was fairly quick. I knew that Christy was at work, so he’d probably be home alone or at the bar.

Yeah. Give me 45—J

Forty-five minutes later, we were grappling around on the mat, not talking. He figured-foured my wrist the first go-round. In the second round, I broke his guard, flipped him on his back. He broke my guard almost immediately and we broke apart, circling each other. I didn’t watch his face as we moved, but kept my eyes trained on the motion in his torso, watching for the little tell of action before he moved.

He grabbed at my leading arm, but I pulled it back and slapped him across me, guiding his body through my space, toward the opposite side. At the same time, I wrapped myself around his back, locking him up in a choke-hold. I knew the slap was more aggressive than how we usually sparred, was harder than sparring should have been.

He dropped an elbow into my gut, and it was enough that I loosened my grip for a moment, but it was all he needed, pushing up against my forearms and twisting away from me. His eyes flashed with anger. “What the fuck, Xander?”

“What the fuck, what? Dick.”

“Figure your shit out, asshole.” And he came at me again, locked me up and flipped me onto the mat, face down. He could have submitted me,
should
have submitted me, but he moved slower than usual and I took the opportunity. I pressed my body up, carrying him with me. When his weight started to pull him off the side of my back, I dove into it, driving him back against the mat, with my forearm across his throat, until he tapped.

I relaxed, letting him go, but he popped up into my face as I leaned back. “What the
fuck
, man? What is fucking wrong with you?”

I drew a breath to yell back at him, not caring who was watching, and looked down to gather my words, but when I looked back at him, the look on his face stopped me. He wasn’t only pissed off at me. He was worried. It made me take the extra beat to think through what I was about to do. This was my oldest friend. The only friend who’d stood by me after Stacy.

I blew out the breath. “Look, man, I don’t know. It’s all the same shit, but it’s been a shite week. Stacy. I’m sick of how dudes look at Leda, and she doesn’t fucking notice. I’m all kinds of fucked up about going home for Christmas. I don’t want to see my parents.”

He sat back on his heels, anger draining from his face. “So, don’t go. Fuck them.”

“You know what it’s like. The shit I would get if I didn’t make an appearance, especially on New Year’s Eve. I know it’s dumb.”

“Yeah, it’s dumb. You’re a grown-ass man.” He reached off the mat for water and looked back at me. “Did you ask Leda to come yet?”

I hung my head a little because I had decided to ask her at least a week ago. “No.”

“Fucking get to it. Having her there will make it better.”

“I doubt it.”

Once we had talked a bit more, and were laughing again, we sparred for another hour. Then, we took turns on the heavy bag, holding for each other, laughing between flurries and combinations. It felt good to get the aggression out, but I wasn’t completely drained.

* * * *

The next night was the final tutoring session and no one showed up. Leda and I laughed a little and tried to study, but it didn’t last long. On the drive back to her house, I found my nuts.

“When are you getting back from Chicago?”

“On the third of January. Why? What are your plans?”

“Well, that fundraiser that my mom’s been up my ass about is actually a New Year’s Eve party. I was wondering if you’d be interested in flying to DC to go with me. I think it’s the only way it’ll be bearable.”

She smiled and I breathed out, unsure why I was even so fucking neurotic about it. She leaned a little toward me, pulling nearly all my focus to her. “Yeah, let me look into what it would take to change my ticket up.”

So, this was where it might get a little weird, and I knew it. “Umm, I already looked into it.” A faint look of surprise registered on her face as I kept speaking. “The senator’s sister and her family are flying down from a private airfield outside Chicago on their jet on New Year’s Eve. You could just fly with them.”

She sat back, but didn’t share any concerns, if she had them. “Okay. Let me talk with my mom about it, too.”

“It kind of sucks that we won’t be here. The Window has a really kick ass New Year’s Party. Maybe next year, when it’s not an election year.”

I sent Jason a text the next day.

She’s coming to DC. Thanks for calling me on my bullshit and sorry.

Whatever, dick. I told you she couldn’t go a full 10 days without your dick. HA!

That’s my fucking woman you’re talking about, and what about the part we just finished where I wasn’t in control? You want to get hurt?

The pseudo-threat. A huge part of guy communication.

Your fucking woman. That’s what I said. And I ain’t scared of you, douche-bag.

I actually laughed. He just understood when to push, when not to. He sent another text before I responded.

What are you doing next week?

Finals, why?

I need a second opinion on a ring for Christy.

Thursday? I’m done around noon.

Yeah, I’ll set it up.

* * * *

Finals were what they always are—figuring out how to be the right kind of dancing monkey for whatever asshole was playing the music. I did well—not because I was smarter than anyone else there, but because I had a different kind of interest in how the body worked. I wanted to learn about how it fit together, so I could know best how to take it apart, how to put it back together when life broke it.

Leda stressed out though. She was up cramming most nights and I had to remind her to go to bed. But she did great and each test was a weight off. Each A was a little buffer to her self-esteem and she seemed happier by the end of the week.

Thursday she had testing all afternoon, and I went to meet Jason. He had arranged an appointment at an exclusive jeweler downtown. When we sat, a small, anemic-looking blonde offered us champagne, which we declined. The manager worked with Jason, going through look-books, getting an idea what he liked. They had to know the kind of money Jason had because they jumped to platinum and huge rocks. He took it in stride and mostly didn’t ask my opinion.

While they talked and sketched out a design, I picked up a few other look books and thumbed through them, absentmindedly thinking of picking a ring for Leda someday. At the bottom of the stack of books, there was a book of titanium jewelry. It was mostly geared toward men—more utilitarian, severe looking. But there was a page of necklaces, actually dog tags meant for men to wear and I thought of a collar for Leda, thought of June’s bracelet labeling her Michael’s toy.

The anemic blonde noticed I was looking, and approached me. “Can I help you pick something out? Are you looking for something for yourself?”

I looked at her, amusement in my eyes. I flicked my eyes to her name tag, strategically over her breast, drawing attention to the low neckline of her blouse. “Tori,” I said with a smile, “I’ll never put a dog tag on again. No, I was thinking about something for my girlfriend.”

She sat on the couch next to me, her knee bumping mine, and started flipping pages. I was amused by the not-so-subtle flirtation in the face of my mention of my girlfriend, wondering if this was how she worked all customers or if there was something specific to me and this situation. “Are you looking for a ring—or something else?”

“Hmm, I’m not sure yet. I don’t think a ring. We haven’t really been together that long.”

She flipped the pages to the back of the book, to more delicate looking chains, with heart-shaped pendants. “Something like this?” She flipped the pages further and the pendants became a little more aggressive looking, heart-shaped locks. My eyebrow quirked up. And on the second to last page there was a small charm necklace with a key, a heart-shaped padlock and a triskelion. It was a symbol of BDSM, had been for years. It kind of looked like a yin-yang with a third part in the mix.
So this store, at least occasionally, catered to wealthy kinksters. Excellent.

I pointed at that necklace, more to gauge Tori’s reaction than a real interest in it. “That one. Tell me about that a little.”

She blushed a little. “It is a lovely necklace with several charms. We are able to add others, or substitute some out if you’d like. The last page, here, shows other charms available.” She turned the page, tongue to her lip. She knew what the triskelion meant. She was breathing faster, licking her lips nervously, afraid to make eye contact.

I sat back on the couch and just watched her anxiety flurrying through her. She didn’t actually play, I decided, based on her reaction. She probably just read about it, fantasized about it. She shifted toward me and closed the book, looking down at it. She folded her hands and looked up at me. “Do you see anything you like?”

The nerves in the question were palpable. She wasn’t
really
asking me to play with her, but she liked the idea. I answered her, dominance leaking into my posture and voice. “No.”

She drew a quick gasp and her eyes widened. I leaned forward, at little into her space. “Let me correct that. Nothing in the book is quite right. Let’s make something, just right, exactly what I want.” I let my words flow out slow, enunciated, and watched them roll over her. Her nipples tightened in her shirt and her breath came raggedly. She had a faint tremor when she brushed a lock of hair out of her face.

“Xander! Jesus, man. Come here.” Jason’s voice snapping at me pulled me out of the little exchange with Tori. I gave her a rueful look and spread my hands in a gesture of innocence at getting pulled away from her. But, as I walked away, I was struck with dissatisfaction. Just fucking with girls wasn’t the same kind of fun anymore. I wanted to fuck with Leda, but I knew exactly what she’d do. She’d be perfect.

Jason had created a design with the jeweler and wanted to show it to me. I knew what he really wanted was for me to stop fucking with that girl’s head. But it was
so
much fun. A smile still crinkled the corners of my eyes as I sat down next to him.

“I think it’s amazing, man. Just like the two of you. It’s unique and perfect.” It was a huge emerald cut diamond set so the long axis would go across her finger. There were surrounding stones that were irregular and a faint, iridescent blue. “What are those?”

“Raw opal shards.”

“Wow.” I had a deepening respect for this jeweler.

“We won’t have the final design until we pick the stone and the shards. The shards are irregular and we’ll make a one-of-a-kind piece with them. I will order the opals and I can pick the best if you’d like, or you can come in and be more hands on if you’d like, Mr. Johns.”

“Call me Jason. Yeah, I think I want to come by to work on it, but I want it as soon as possible.”